


Commanding and Demanding

by kethni



Series: Redux [6]
Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Alternative Perspective, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: Kent knew he had no shot with Sue Wilson, but it was a pleasant fantasy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my 100th Veep story! I hope you enjoy it.

Love at first sight was sentimental nonsense. It was nothing but shallow infatuation that imagined itself profound. Kent did not believe in love at first sight.

When he finally met the infamous Sue Wilson, he didn’t fall in love at first sight. Perhaps what he felt was infatuation. He wasn’t particularly minded to interrogate the feeling. It wasn’t something he was going to pursue. It wasn’t _important_. It was merely pleasurable. It added a little extra excitement to his day. He wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed at nursing a small crush on Miss Wilson. She was objectively, an intelligent, commanding, demanding, and beautiful woman. It was nothing but a flight of fancy, of course. He would never dream of approaching her, and he had no illusions that she might somehow return his regard. Nonetheless it was a pleasant fantasy, one which he enjoyed a great deal.

* * *

‘Ben says you’ve been making cow eyes at Meyer’s secretary,’ Stuart Hughes said. He was being measured for a new suit. He was constantly changing tailors in the hope of finding one who could make him look good.

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘Ben in on his fourth marriage and he’s accusing me of having a wandering eye?’

Hughes glanced at him. ‘Man your age should be married. It’s not healthy. You should have married –’

‘Vice President Meyer is awaiting my return,’ Kent said.

‘Which secretary is Ben talking about?’

‘I assume the appointment secretary. She’s the only one with which I have any dealings.’

Hughes squinted at himself in the mirror. ‘Is that the drunk?’

Kent set his shoulders. ‘Ben is a drunk. Joe Florentine is a drunk. Miss Wilson is a healthy woman who, at times, enjoys a drink. As do many of our colleagues.’

Hughes fiddled with his cuffs. ‘No need to be touchy. Are you taking her out anywhere nice?’

Kent gritted his teeth. ‘We’re not dating.’

Hughes waved his hand. ‘Sure. Sure. You can use my name for tables. Talk to my girl. She’ll sort it out.’

Kent looked at the ceiling. ‘Was there something that you wanted to see me about, Mr President?’

‘Hmm? Oh. Yes.’ He looked at Kent. ‘Joanna said your cousin is in _Rock Toxin_. That’s not true, is it?’

Kent shook his head.

‘Shit.’

‘He’s my nephew,’ Kent said. ‘He’s the lead singer.’

Hughes wagged a finger. ‘You nearly got me.’

Kent gave a brittle smile. ‘Is that all you wished to know?’

‘No! Look, my birthday is coming up and, you know, the president can’t be seen going to glam rock concerts.’

‘I suppose not.’

Hughes clapped a meaty hand on Kent’s shoulder. ‘I would consider it a personal favour if you could arrange for the band to play here.’

‘It’s a little...’ Kent remembered who he was talking to. Politicians were allergic to trivial things like reality or other person’s desires or schedules. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Good man,’ Hughes said expensively. ‘And ignore Ben.’

‘I don’t care what Ben thinks,’ Kent said, frowning.

‘Good. Maybe you can bring that secretary with you to my birthday party.

***

Kent turned over in bed. Someone in the other room was making a low whistling sound as they breathed. He wasn’t sure if it was Liam or Jerry.

Kent’s body thrummed with the thump of his heart and the whoosh of blood coursing through his veins. It wasn’t too fast or too slow, but it was uncomfortably present. Something he rarely thought about, something he generally ignored, was demanding his attention.

He hadn’t shared his bed with anyone in... months. He hadn’t shared his life with anyone since… Well.

The evening had been more than he had hoped for. When she touched his hand, he thought for a moment what could have been, if only things had been different. If only he had been different.

He considered himself a realist. He didn’t have charm or charisma. He wasn’t funny, he didn’t have the gift of conversation, and he was too old now to be handsome. Too old entirely to be contemplating... what? Sue was much younger than he was. They would share little enough in common. Few shared books, television, or music. It was a shaky foundation for a friendship let alone anything else.

Nonetheless, it had been a pleasant fantasy. Doubtless in the cold light of day she would think better of what had happened. He didn’t regret it. Even if she thought it best to step back, he would still have the memory of their talk out on the balcony. That was a sweet recollection.

***

He had his beard trimmed by the barber. He usually did it himself, but his hands were shaking. He’d already had a haircut. The clock was ticking down. Ninety minutes until zero hour. Ben had made a lot of snarky and snide comments about Kent being excited. He wasn’t excited. He was anxious, almost to the point of nausea.

Afterwards he had his beard trimmed, he went home, made dinner, didn’t eat it, had a quick shower, and got changed into his best suit. Twenty minutes until zero hour. Time to leave.

It was childish to be so nervous. He knew that. He had always preferred the company of strong, determined, and ambitious women. Perhaps his romantic life would have been simpler and more successful if he was drawn to women who were more acquiescent and easy-going. He couldn’t imagine anything less appealing.

He saw Sue at an outside table. She was doing something on her phone. He couldn’t go over yet, it was too early. He watched for a few seconds and then walked around the corner. It was a work event, technically, but in evening dress, with alcohol, and dancing. It would feel more like a party. More like a date.

Kent rarely dated. He had only been in a handful of relationships, although a couple had lasted. The last one... He pushed away the thought. He was going to have a drink with Sue. He was going to spend a fun evening with a commanding and demanding woman. Kent took a breath. He could do this.

***

Sue leaned against a wall and looked up at the sky. ‘I want to see the stars.’

‘You’d have to move out of the city,’ Kent said, leaning close. ‘There’s too much light pollution.’

She grabbed his shirt by the front. ‘Blind me with science,’ she said. ‘It’s fucking hot.’

‘Hearing you say" fuck" is fucking hot,’ Kent said.

She laughed: a deep, throaty chuckle that made his blood rise. He leaned in to kiss her. She sighed against his lips.

‘My feet ache,’ she said.

‘Okay.’

‘Take off my shoes,’ she ordered.

‘Aye, aye.’

Kent kneeled down to unstrap her shoes. ‘The streets are not clean.’

She waved her hand. ‘Not far now,’ she said. ‘And then I’ll fuck you in every room of the apartment.’

He laughed. ‘Oh, will you?’

She pushed her fingers into his hair. ‘Your hair is amazing.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You suit being on your knees,’ she said, smirking. ‘You should do it more often.’

Kent stood up. She was too drunk for him to possibly in good conscience do any more than flirt and kiss. He didn’t mind. Sue was too fun and playful right now for him to regret it.

‘Are you sure you can walk like that?’

Sue narrowed her eyes. ‘I can do _anything_.’

Kent stepped back and offered her his arm. ‘Shall we?"

‘We shall.’

They got about three hundred yards when he heard something behind them, the scrape of a rubber sole against the ground. Kent turned around. A man, all in dark clothes and with a scarf wrapped around his lower face, loomed up behind them.

‘Turn out your pockets and –’

Sue punched him in the face, spun around, and ran off. The man staggered back a step. He reached into his pocket. Kent swung the shoes in his hand, smashing the heavy wooden heels into the assailant’s face.

The man bellowed wordlessly, falling backwards. He pulled something dark from his pocket.

Kent kicked at it, heard something skitter along the street, and then took to his heels.

Sue hadn’t got very far, and Kent caught up with her quickly. She whirled around at the sound of his footsteps and tried to raise her fists but whimpered in pain.

‘That looks nasty,’ Kent said, looking at it gingerly. ‘Let’s get you to the ER.’ He put his arm around her as he called an Uber.

‘I was having a lovely evening before that,’ she said mournfully.

He smiled. ‘Me too.’

***

Kent pursed his lips. He was receiving dozens of texts from Selina Meyer, Amy Brookheimer, and the rest. Next to him, Sue snored. A shame. He would have liked to discuss it with her. As it was, he had an unpleasant suspicion building. The story about the power failing and everyone being trapped inside the embassy was clearly nonsense. A cover for something. Add to that the apparent mugger targeting himself and Sue...

He looked in her clutch before quickly, and unobtrusively, patted her down. It hadn’t been very likely. Women’s clothing was notoriously lacking in pockets.

He found it in his jacket pocket. A small, black, USB stick entirely without marking or identifier. He had never seen it before.

He clenched his fist around the USB stick. Beside him, Sue tried to shift in her sleep, but her swollen hand was in the way.

Kent shoved the stick back in his pocket and scowled as he tapped a number into his cell.

She answered immediately. It was thirteen minutes past two in the morning, and she answered immediately.

‘Kent, where are you?’

‘The ER,’ he growled.

‘I’ll send –’

‘No. You,’ he interrupted. ‘Be here in fifteen minutes or I’m handing this over to Eric Weiss and you can whistle for it.’

He didn’t wait for an answer. After he terminated the call he closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. There was no point in losing his temper the minute she walked through the door.

Cold hearted, manipulative...

No. Clear thoughts. Calm.

He texted Ben. Nothing too detailed. Cells could be hacked, and texts could be intercepted. But this was shaping up to be a potential international incident. Thank you, Charlie.

He heard her, before he saw her. He knew her gait. He knew the sounds she made.

‘My goodness,’ she said. ‘Isn’t this cosy? Probably not quite the date she was hoping for.’

Kent looked up. Charlie took a step back.

‘Look, Kent –’

‘This was you?’ he growled.

‘Not directly,’ Charlie said. ‘Honey, do you think I can authorise intelligence gathering on an ally all by myself?’ she asked quietly.

‘I think you’re capable of anything.’ Kent stood up. ‘You knew. You should’ve stopped it.’

‘Grow up, you’re only angry that you’re the one who got caught up in it.’

Kent forced himself to take a breath. ‘You have fucked up, Charlotte. Your entire agency has fucked up.’

‘Kent, I’m sorry but –’

‘The French have shut down the embassy with the Vice President and her senior staff inside,’ he said. ‘They _know_ , Charlie. Your agent is burned, you’ve probably set back relations by years, and you’ve humiliated us in front of one of our oldest allies.’

‘What’s happening?’ Sue mumbled, sitting up. ‘Where are we?’

‘Hospital,’ Kent said shortly.

‘You’ve got a hell of a right cross,’ Charlie said, smiling. ‘Real shame you hurt your hand.’

‘Don’t talk to her,’ Kent said. ‘Leave her alone. You’ve done more than enough.’

Charlie folded her arms. ‘None of this was about her and it wasn’t about us.’

‘It’s a hell of a coincidence.’

‘You have clearance,’ Charlie said. ‘That’s all. If it had been someone else and they found the package first anything could have happened.’ She sighed. ‘We knew if you found it then you would be a safe pair of hands. The worst you threatened was to give it to the CIA.’

A nurse called Sue’s name and she looked up. Kent took her arm as she staggered to her feet.

‘Pull this shit again and I’ll burn you, Charlie,’ Kent said coldly. ‘Don’t push me. You know I can do it. You know I will do it.’


	2. Chapter 2

Kent liked Joanna and he generally enjoyed her company, but he found her brunches wildly uncomfortable. He wasn’t good at small talk but, unlike Ben, he didn’t feel it appropriate to simply sit in silence stuffing food and alcohol into his face.

‘Stuart said you have a little girlfriend,’ Joanna said lightly.

Ben grunted disapprovingly.

‘I’ve been spending some time with a lady friend,’ Kent acknowledged.

‘Meyer’s appointment secretary?’ Hughes checked.

‘Yes.’

‘You couldn’t find a woman your own age?’ Ben asked.

Kent pulled a face. ‘You’re going to lecture me on appropriate partners? You?’

‘Is she very young?’ Joanna whispered to Hughes.

‘How would I know?’

Kent toyed with his fork. ‘She’s thirty-four, so yes. There is a significant age difference.’

‘I see,’ Joanna said.

‘Jo,’ Hughes said warningly.

‘What? I’m only asking. I’m sure it’s nothing to me if some bimbo is throwing herself –’

‘She is not a bimbo!’ Kent snapped.

‘That’s for damn sure,’ Ben said. ‘She’s got a good head on her shoulders.’

Joanna sipped her mimosa. ‘I apologise. Obviously, a smart gold-digger is much preferable to a dumb one.’

Hughes shrugged. ‘Aren’t they?’

Kent put down his cutlery. ‘Is it your assertion, Ma’am, that I can only hope to spend time with intelligent, strong-willed women if I pay them for their company?’

‘Nobody is calling Sue a hooker,’ Ben protested.

‘It’s the same principle,’ Kent said.

‘It’s my assertion that you have shocking taste in women,’ Joanna said. ‘I worry that you get taken advantage of by unscrupulous women.’

‘You don’t even know her,’ Kent said.

‘More likely he’s going to take advantage of her,’ Ben said.

Joanna looked at Ben. ‘You’re being ridiculous. Stop it.’

‘Don’t get her pregnant,’ Hughes said. ‘And if you married, get a pre-nup.’

Kent silently counted to ten. ‘We’ve only been out a handful of times.’

‘So, nail it down. Best for everyone.’

‘And she told me that she has no intention of having children,’ Kent continued.

Ben grunted. ‘Women say that and then…’ He shook his head.

Kent glared at him. ‘Oddly enough I have never had women lie to me with the frequency and maliciousness that you claim they lie to you.’

***

There wasn’t enough light coming through the window for him to see her. It didn’t matter. Lay in her bed, entangled in her Egyptian cotton sheets, he didn’t need to see her. Her leg was thrown across his. Her hair was in his face. He could feel the warmth, strength, and softness of her. He could smell her musk.

Also, he could hear her snoring. You could have split logs with the sound. Kent kissed the shell of her ear and reached over to the bedside table. He still had some earplugs. Building work nearby had necessitated them. He had no intention of mentioning the snoring to Sue. She would doubtless deny it and Sue Was Always Right.

He put in the earplugs and settled down again. He closed his eyes and concentrating on the rise and fall of her breathing. It was a quiet, perfect moment. One he would always remember.

He didn’t know how long this would last. He didn’t know if it would even last until morning. He wasn’t going to worry about it. He was going to take whatever she offered and be grateful for all of it.

***

He was probably making a fool of himself. Old man fawning over a young woman. It was a story out of the ark. He should have cared about it.

She was surprised when he couldn’t have lunch with her. However, she didn’t complain. That was a relief. Things with Sue were more pleasant than he deserved but he was aware that there a certain fragility. They were both on their best behaviour, playing nice. It wouldn’t take much to shatter things. He was acutely aware that even on his best behaviour, there was going to be a limit to her patience.

He put that thought out of his mind. He knew he was trying to avoid thinking about Matty.

He parked up his car outside the cemetery. There was a steady drizzle of rain outside and the sky was a washed out grey. It suited his mood. He put his umbrella up as he walked through the rows of headstones. It was quiet, apart from the susurration of the rain and the whistling of the rising breeze.

Kent stopped to wipe mud from his shoes. That was important. Always a suit and tie in good condition and well-pressed, a clean pair of shoes, and freshly groomed hair and beard. Always.

The grave was recently tended. Daisies bloomed in a pot. There was a teddy bear by the headstone. That would be Charlie. She brought them regularly. Kent had wondered, from time to time, what happened to them. They weren’t there long enough to degrade. He was glad of that.

Kent squatted down to put a pot of pansies on the side opposite the daisies. Colourful flowers seemed right. He took a small box from his pocket. Inside was a curl of short blond hair. He didn’t touch it. Just looked. It was growing fragile.

He should come more often. Perhaps if he did it would grow easier. It was always difficult, the anniversary, and he had to steel himself to do it. He stood up and closed his eyes for a moment. The rain was getting heavier. Still he stood. Not praying. He didn’t have any religious belief. He had always assumed the adage about believing what you wanted to believe was true. He had found that it wasn’t true for him. There had been moments in his life when a faith might have been a comfort. Moments when he _wanted_ to believe in something. In fairness. In justice. In more life for those who had never really lived.

On the way back to the car, Sue called. She didn’t ask where he was, or what he was doing. Instead she relayed a darkly hilarious meeting that Selina had with some “traditional” Christian group. Old Testament traditional. It was a disaster on both sides. Selina thought they were misogynistic, homophobic bigots, and they thought she was an adulterous whore who should be stoned.

‘Thank you,’ Kent said.

‘You’re welcome. What are you thanking me for?’

‘Being you,’ Kent said.

***

He had to call in a lot of favours to get good reservations at such short notice, even dropping Hughes’s name. That was okay. Sue was worth the effort. This was the first time they were going out publicly and he wanted it to be special. Sue was an oenophile, so it had to be a restaurant with an extensive wine list that she would enjoy. She had, most surprisingly, specified somewhere on the Hill. She wanted to be seen with Kent. She wanted people to know. He wanted her to know how happy, grateful, and proud he was to be with her.

‘Quit being so fucking happy,’ Ben ordered.

Kent thought about it. ‘No.’

‘Jesus, when was the last time you dated if this how you act about it?’

‘It’s been some while,’ Kent admitted.

Ben gave him a sour look. ‘Don’t fucking forget the campsite rules.’

‘What?’

Ben rolled his eyes. ‘When you’re an old ass fucker dating someone half your age, you gotta obey the campsite rules.’

Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t start fires? No skinny dipping?’

Ben poked him in the shoulder. ‘This isn’t a fucking joke. Campsite rules: leave shit better than you found it. Don’t fuck her up. Don’t ruin her god damn life.’

Kent swallowed. ‘I have no intention of doing either.’

‘See that you don’t.’

It wasn’t something that he had ever thought about. He wasn’t that sort of man. He had been fucked up by relationships, although he wouldn’t go far as saying his life had been ruined. Mostly where things had gone badly he would admit to failings on both sides. He didn’t think of himself as having any inappropriate power over Sue. She wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t easily manipulated. If anything, he was acquiescent to her. It hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would think differently.

But Ben did. As much as Ben’s private life was an ongoing disaster, as much as he was bitter and vicious, as much as he disliked Kent and made sure Kent knew it, he wasn’t a fool. If he thought Kent might take advantage of Sue, then other people might also think it. She might think it.

***

A certain kind of woman found Malcolm charming in a perverse kind of way. If you weren’t directly working with him, it was possible not to take him seriously. To view him as irascible rather than verbally violent. Charlie had found him amusing. Kent had learnt as a child that only some bullies were cowards, others revelled in violence. Events that were regrettable, but not regretted, had proved Malcolm _was_ a coward, and spectacularly poor at following through on his threats of violence. He was a little taller than Kent, but he took a punch like school boy. Kent neither enjoyed nor feared physical confrontation. In Kent's motorcycle club, fists were the preferred method of solving disputes. Kent had been taught not to initiate fights, but to be sure that he finished them.

Kent had initiated the confrontation with Malcolm that night when he caught Malcolm and Charlie. He damn well finished it.

Sue didn’t seem to notice how nervous Malcolm was. Why would she? She didn’t know him. She was more interested in getting drunk. Kent had hoped to continue their evening after the meal, a walk perhaps. Sue was too drunk for that. She was too drunk for anything other than being poured into bed.

Kent called Joanna. He only got out a couple of sentences, and received a brusque “you’ll feel better tomorrow,” before she turned the conversation to herself. That was okay. It made him feel less alone.

***

Sue didn’t buy Charlie’s “soft voice and fluttery eye-lashes” act. Even when he came by later, while they were synching calendars, Sue still looked pissed. Good.

Kent walked towards the Oval Office with Ben. The shorter man cleared his throat.

‘She seemed well,’ Ben said.

‘Really.’

‘I thought she went fucking nuts after... after.’

‘Hmm.’

Ben pulled Kent into a nook. ‘She played that room like a fucking violinist. What’s going on? How did she end up local director?’

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘Ask her.’

‘I’m asking you.’

Kent pulled his arm from Ben’s grasp. ‘I can’t tell you.’

Ben straightened his shirt. ‘Did she really leave her panties in an official car?’

‘You would have to ask her.’

‘Fuck.’ Ben shook his head. ‘I should’ve known better.’

‘Yes,’ Kent said. ‘You should.’ He pushed past Ben and strode to the Oval Office, ignoring Ben as he huffed to keep up. President Hughes was ranting on a conference call. His puffy, pink face was flushed red. Kent was reminded of an insult he’d seen hurled at the British Prime Minister: ham face. It was oddly applicable.

‘... we are already struggling to recover from the spy fuckery that the CIA caused and now you assholes decided to get in on the act? Jesus Christ! What next? Are the FBI gonna start trailing random foreign nationals? Are the Navy gonna take it into their heads to mine the Bermuda Triangle? Is the National Guard gonna invade Canada?’

The NSA director played to Hughes's vanity and, just about, convinced him that the disaster signalled to Europe than the US was taking the lead on terrorism and would protect the world even if it meant losing fair weather friends!

Ben made a vomiting gesture.

‘The French have been our allies for two hundred years,’ Kent murmured.

‘Tell that to Mr Freedom Fries,’ Ben snorted.

Hughes terminated the call and slumped into his chair. He rested his hands on his stomach and splayed his fingers over his belly.

‘Kent, what’s this about the Motherfucker being in D. C.? Isn’t he banned from the country?’

‘We should put him in Gitmo,’ Ben said.

‘That would be a cruel and unusual punishment,’ Kent said. ‘For the other prisoners.’

‘Even terrorists don’t deserve that,’ Ben agreed.

Hughes pulled a face. ‘You spoke to him, Benny?’

‘Not much, he was looking for Kent.’ Ben hiked up his pants and looked at Kent. ‘I thought you two had a falling out.’

‘We did.’

Hughes shuddered. ‘What does he want? I’m not meeting with him. Vicious asshole. And his side lost. They can go whistle and he can fuck right off. I’m not meeting him.’

Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s almost word for word what Vice President Meyer said.’

Hughes snorted. ‘He doesn’t want to meet with her. Does he want to meet her?’

‘No,’ Kent said. ‘Or you.’

‘Then what was he calling for?’ Hughes asked.

Kent shrugged. ‘To arrange a meeting with me.’

Hughes’s face darkened. ‘Is he trying to fucking poach my staff?’

Kent blinked. ‘Uh -’

‘How much did he offer you? I’ll give you an extra twenty thousand to stay.’

Ben’s eyes bulged. ‘We can’t do that! There are rules!’

Hughes gritted his teeth. ‘Where there are rules, there are loopholes. Sort it out, Benny. No excuses.’

Kent knew from the look in Ben’s eyes that he suspected that Malcolm hadn’t offered Kent anything, but that he couldn’t say that. Hughes was appalling at admitting mistakes.

***

Kent would never admit to being proud of some property of his personality. He would say, if asked, that he would consider his temper to be a positive aspect. He didn’t have a quick temper. He didn’t have a violent temper. He had _initiated_ violent conflict precisely three times in his life, and two of those were before the age of fourteen. He found losing his temper distressing and unpleasant. He disliked it enough that he always did his best to avoid it.

He didn’t _violently_ lose his temper with Sue. He certainly lost his temper. They both did. The idea of hurting her, of raising his hand to her, was as horrific as it was alien. He didn’t hurt her. He didn’t go near her. He stood on one side of the cabin while she stood on the other. When she stepped forward, he stepped back. When she hurled his shirt at him, he caught it, and then stood rigidly still as she marched past him to the cabin.

Kent wasn’t quick to lose his temper and when he lost it, it wasn’t violent. But he did lose his temper _spectacularly_. It wasn’t simply that he was angry. Angry was easy. Embarrassed was hard. Betrayed was hard. Hurt was hard.   

‘I don’t want a conversation. I don’t want a discussion. I just want to go somewhere, get drunk, and not think. Is that a problem for you?’ Kent asked.

‘Are you fucking kidding?’ Malcolm asked. ‘I’m alone in a foreign country. Getting mindlessly drunk is what I _do_.’

He didn’t like Malcolm. He didn’t trust Malcolm. He didn’t respect Malcolm. That made things easier. He would worry what Ben thought. He didn’t give a shit what Malcolm thought. There was a kind of freedom in that. A freedom he wouldn’t have had with Ben.


	3. Chapter 3

Malcolm had a nose for low class dives. There was something to be said for them Kent supposed, if only that he was unlikely to meet anyone with whom he worked. Nonetheless, Kent was happy to be squirreled in a corner booth. He didn’t have to worry about falling over. The more he drank, the more likely he was to fall over.

This made visiting the bathroom a complicated proposition. He needed to go. He wanted to go. He did not want to fall flat on his face. That would have been a problem. For one thing, if he was literally falling down drunk, the bar would stop serving him. With a lack of cunning that would have disappointed Selina, he merely waited until the bar staff were looking away before dragging himself to his feet and lurching towards the door.

Malcolm was at the bar ordering more drinks. No matter how drunk Malcolm was he always managed to talk coherently and walk in a straight line. He might, however, suddenly throw up or pass out.

Kent crashed into a cubicle to relieve himself, the better not to be seen if he fell over. He felt his cell vibrating in his pocket, but he ignored it. There was nobody he wanted to talk to. Sue wasn’t going to call. Sue Was Always Right. Although they hadn’t discussed her previous relationships in detail, he knew, _knew_ , that she didn’t apologise, and she didn’t agonise.

As he staggered back to the table it struck him that this was the wake for the funeral of his relationship. It had died there in the cabin of his boat.

‘What’re you fucking weeping about, you giant pansy?’ Malcolm demanded.

Kent waved his hand.

‘You had a barney! It’s what adults DO! Jesus Christ!’ Malcolm shoved Kent’s drink towards him. ‘Fucking drink that. In the morning send her flowers and fucking chocolates, tell her you were wrong, and then go have dirty make-up sex that lasts for hours.’

Kent shook his head and gulped his beer. ‘No.’ He peered at the glass. ‘This tastes terrible.’

‘Just fucking drink it. Quickly.’

Drunk as he was, Kent knew when Malcolm was up to something. It was safe to assume he was generally up to something, but now he was absolutely sure.

‘Did you _roofie_ me?’

Malcolm’s eyes widen. ‘Roofie you? Did I roofie you? Piss off. You think I’m so desperate to get laid I have to resort to that?’

Kent squinted at him. ‘You did. You’re arguing too much.’

‘No!’ Malcolm burped delicately into his fist. ‘I wouldn’t waste it on you. Look at you all miserable and self-pitying.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘First person to be give you a smile and a cuddle would have you on your fucking knees.’  

‘Malcolm, my tongue is going numb. What did you give me?’

‘Fucking roofie,’ Malcolm grumbled. ‘It’s a fucking sedative isn’t it? So, right, no. No. Don’t fucking look at me like that. Don’t -’

Kent tried to stand but fell down into his seat. ‘Ambulance.’

‘No, no, no,’ Malcolm said, tapping his nose. ‘I drink and take them all the time. Look, you’re going to go to sleep like the fucking _dead_ , right? So, I call Sue and tell her that you’ve drunk yourself into a stupor on account of how miserable you are.’

‘Wha…?’

Kent was having trouble focussing on Malcolm, but he thought the other man smiled.

‘Nothing a woman likes better than a man who can’t live without her. I’ll get her to take of you and the next thing you know –’

Kent slid sideways in his chair as things went dark.

***

It was the snoring that woke him up, although the urgent need to throw up was also making itself keenly felt. That wasn’t normal. Kent hadn’t drunk enough to vomit since he was a teenager. He knew his limit and he stuck to it. He had _never_ passed out drunk.

Sue was lay in the bed next to him. It took him a moment to remember why that didn’t feel right.

Oh.

She looked beautiful in her sleep. She’d looked beautiful at the boat, just before everything went to hell. What the fuck was she doing… She had no right…

He covered his eyes with his hands.

It wasn’t any of her business.

He should’ve told her.

She should’ve understood.

Kent pushed himself up to his feet and went to the bathroom. He didn’t have much of a headache. He felt nauseated but without the roiling, acidic tinge that he tended to have when he was hungover.

His eyes weren’t bloodshot. There were no dark circles under his eyes. His tongue was pink.

Kent loaded his toothbrush with toothpaste. He had a strong suspicion that he was not, in fact, hungover. That left the uncomfortable question as to exactly _what_ had happened that he had ended up at home, with Sue in his bed, and no memory of what happened.

After he finished brushing his teeth he checked his cell.

_Malcolm: You can thank me when she takes you back!_

Kent narrowed his eyes. Right. Evidently it was necessary to send a clear and unmistakeable message.

He had Malcolm picked up and deported. It only took two phone calls. It was immensely satisfying.

Then Kent showered. He was going to do it again, he knew, after his work out. But he did it anyway because he felt grimy and caked in misery.

It wasn’t until he went to make a cup of chamomile tea that he even noticed Amy asleep on the couch. Was that what Sue thought of him, that she needed the other woman there for protection? He thought Sue knew him better than that.

He thought she trusted him.

Amy had been alone with him a number of times without apparent concern. It was possible that was partly due to her perception of him as robotic or possibly that she recognised his perception of her as sexless. She was pretty, in a doll-like way, but she was so uncomfortable in her own skin, so tense, that could not imagine enjoying time with her. He was reminded of Elizabet, a lovely woman with whom he spent pleasant walks, meals, and conversations. The first they met she had told him that she was an asexual romantic. She had no sex drive but was happy to sleep with a boyfriend if it made him happy. Kent had been a little unsure about entering a relationship with her, but she pursued him, was persuasive, and besides, he liked her company.

They had a lot in common. He found her fun and engaging. She enjoyed his romantic impulses and was equally romantic in her turn. But when she cheerfully told him in bed to “get on it there, you can do whatever you need,” he couldn’t.

She wasn’t unwilling, and she certainly wasn’t resentful. Nonetheless, it was something she was tolerating in order to make him happy. That had been like a bucket of cold water. He had apologised profusely. She had been open and honest. Kent had hoped it wouldn’t be a problem. It was, and that was his fault. Elizabet was comfortable and warm in a way that Amy wasn’t. Nevertheless, Kent imagined Amy would be just as indifferent to sex, albeit for entirely different reasons.

Sue was passionate, engaged, and enthusiastic about their shared pleasure. Sex with her felt equally desired. That was rare. In any relationship there was often a mismatch in desire and affection. Sex too easily became something done from obligation or boredom. His last few months with Charlie had been riddled with guilt, resentment, and anger.

She insisted on a date night each week. What was sweet at first eventually became a sick joke. Her antidepressants were strong enough to obliterate her sex drive. He was exhausted from working and caring for her. Even when she scraped together the strength to dress up, to bathe, put up her hair, and put on makeup, when he looked at her he didn’t feel anything close to desire.

He made his peace with it. With little blue pills hidden where she wouldn’t find them. With smiling when he wanted to scream. It was his fault.

***

Ben sat on the other chair and put his feet up on Kent’s desk. ‘What the fuck is going on with you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘I called you last night. You didn’t answer,’ Ben accused. ‘Now Sue’s got a face like she ate a lemon and I hear you had Malcolm Tucker deported. He didn’t do it again, did he?’

Kent didn’t look up from his tablet. ‘Do what?’

‘It. You know.’ Ben sighed. ‘He didn’t sleep with Sue?’

‘No,’ Kent said, disgusted. ‘She wouldn’t look at him.’

Ben adjusted his tie. ‘Good. I figured not since your knuckles aren’t all bloody. It was embarrassing explaining to his people that time why he had a black eye and a fat lip.’

Kent looked at him. ‘You loved every minute.’

‘It was great,’ Ben said with a sigh. ‘For a while there you were a bone fide hero to the British people.’

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘If you must know; Sue and I had a.... disagreement. I went for a drink with Malcolm to take my mind off things, and he put a sedative in my beer. Hence, I had him deported.’

Ben took out his flask and took a sip. ‘There’s a lot going on there. Jesus. You had a fight with Sue?’

Kent nodded. ‘I don’t wish to talk about it.’

‘But you called Malcolm Tucker to go drinking? What the fuck is wrong with me?’

‘This,’ Kent said. ‘The self-pitying whining. If I’d asked you then after two drinks you would be been wailing about all your failed marriages.’

Ben dismissed the truth of this with a wave of his hand. ‘At least I never roofied you.’

‘As far as I know,’ Kent said dryly.

Ben cracked his knuckles. ‘I told him it was me.’

‘What?’

‘Tucker called from the I. C. E. ranting about being deported. I told him it was me.’ He shrugged. ‘Why should you get all the fun?’

Kent frowned. ‘Did you cancel it?’

‘Fuck that,’ Ben said. ‘I told him I was having him banned forever.’ He pushed back his chair but didn’t stand up. ‘This argument with Sue, is it serious?’

Kent shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It felt serious.’

‘Make a big apology.’

‘People keep saying that.’ Kent folded his arms. ‘She went through my private things. She called me a liar for keeping private things private. Why should _I_ apologise?’

Ben cocked his head. ‘Because you don’t want to be me,’ he said quietly. ‘So grow the fuck up.’

***

Joanna brought her knees up to her chest. It was a nice room and it was in the Residence for security reasons. But it was a medical bed, not her own comfortable queen, and there was a nurse always nearby.

‘This is silly,’ Joanna said to Kent. ‘I have things to do.’

‘There’s a rumour that you had a little session,’ Kent said gently. ‘Couldn’t get out of bed. Weeping for hours.’

She fixed him with a look. ‘Everyone has bad days.’

‘Not like that.’ He scanned her face. ‘Stuart said –’

‘I’m taking my meds,’ she insisted.

‘Nobody is angry if you’ve not,’ he said.

‘Ha!’ She pushed back her hair. ‘Why are you here?’

‘To see if you’re alright. I was worried.’

Joanna pursed her lips. ‘You’re supposed to be on a plane to London.’

‘I’ll go on the back-up,’ he said.

‘I suppose when you’re done here you’ll go sneak off for a quickie with that girl of yours.’

Kent chuckled. ‘No.’

‘Oh, go on. I won’t tell.”

He winced. ‘That would merely result in her yelling at me. Sue is quite... sensitive in her own way. She doesn’t like it if one of us has to go away. It upsets her.’

Joanna gave him a look. ‘She told me to fuck off.’

‘Yes. I know. I was there.’ He shrugged. ‘You deserved it.’

‘Cheek!’

‘You were being exceptionally selfish,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘That’s what Stuart said.’

‘I should get going,’ Kent said, standing.

‘You’ve been a very good friend to me,’ she said. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry that I’ve been so demanding and such a terrible friend to you.’

Kent gave her an odd look. There was something in her tone that made him uncomfortable although he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘If you misbehave in future I’ll have Sue call and yell at you.’

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The back-up plane had no other guests, so he tried to nap. He dreamed that he and Sue were lost in a maze, trying to find their way to each other. They were calling out to each other as darkness fell, as the air filled with screeching bats and spinning snow.

He woke up panting. Head whirling. He went to wash his face in the restroom. A flight attendant gave him an uneasy look.

‘Had a bad dream,’ he said weakly.

She visibly relaxed as he walked away. It was far from the first time that he had inadvertently made a woman nervous. Even so, despite his best efforts, he still did it, and he regretted it each time.

He went back to his seat and tried to make himself comfortable. He checked the time in the US. Would Sue have returned home yet?

He was anxious to know what she thought of her gift. Her bookshelves heaved with classic literature, but he had noticed she had two different editions of _Dangerous Liaisons_. One was a paperback with a broken spine and loose pages. It was almost worn apart. There was also a newer hardback, but that was also well-thumbed. Sue had three different movie versions on her DVD shelf, the only book adaptation of which she had multiple versions. He had considered checking his conclusion with Amy, but suspected that, even if Sue talked about art and literature, Amy only heard politics.

***

For the third day in a row, Kent heard Ray lean against the wall behind him.

‘I don’t get it.’ Ray said.

Kent, still mastering the Revolved Head-to-knee Pose, didn’t answer.

‘You’re not some hippy dippy new mom trying to shake off baby weight,’ Ray continued. ‘Why’re you wasting your time on this yoga shit? You should get bulked up. Build some muscle… Jesus! How did you do that?’

Kent, now in a headstand, closed his eyes. ‘Practice.’

Kent worked out most days but not normally for this long at this intensity. He was doing it now because... Well, because it helped him, for a while, not think about Sue. Not think about her smile and her touch and the way she said his name.

He had spoken to her each night, but the calls grew shorter and more bad tempered as her mood frayed.

However, he wasn’t despairing. She was angry and upset because she was missing him, nothing else. He was distracted and unhappy because he was missing her. Temporary problems that would be solved as soon as he returned home. His love life was much simpler than Meyer’s. Her “attachment” to Ray-the-Idiot was proving far more problematic even before the damning blog posts surfaced.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Ben said when he called Kent. ‘Who knew he could read an and write?’

Firing Ray was something out of Dante’s Inferno. The imbecile wouldn’t or couldn’t comprehend what Kent was telling him. Kent was given to understand from office gossip that Gary was usually despatched to inform Selina’s former lovers that their services were no longer required. He probably enjoyed it. As it was, Kent concentrated on explaining that Ray’s professional services were not required. Anything else was between he and Selina.

‘Surplus to requirements,’ Kent said. ‘No longer needed. Unnecessary. Unwanted. Not fit for purpose. Not employed. Ousted. Sacked. Fired. Dismissed. Laid off. Is any of this making the smallest bit of sense to you?’

Ray stared at him with all the insight and intelligence of a table lamp. ‘Fired?’

‘Yes!’

‘She’s firing me?’ he checked.

‘Yes,’ Kent said. ‘You are fired, effective immediately. That means right now.’

Ray put his hands on his hips. ‘After everything I’ve done for her, she’s got you firing me?’

Kent squinted at him. ‘What you have _done_ is expose her to ridicule and humiliation.’

‘Shit,’ Ray said. ‘You want to go get a drink?’

‘What?’

‘A drink. I just got fired. I need a drink. You like firing people?’

Kent shook his head.

‘Stressful, right? You’re stressed. I’m stressed. Let’s go get a quick drink.’

Kent blinked. ‘Okay?’

***

They were attracting looks. Kent wondered if Ray had noticed that the pub they were in had an entirely male clientele. In the men’s restroom, the back of the door had been covered in adverts and cards for gyms, saunas, and a variety of medical and counselling services. There was, to put it mildly, A Theme. Given Ray’s medieval opinions about obesity, Kent was slightly concerned what he would do if someone came on to him. In Kent’s experience, intolerance tended to be indiscriminate in its discrimination.

‘You’re dating the secretary, chick?’ Ray asked.

‘Sue. She would not appreciate being referred to in that way.’

‘Martial arts,’ Ray said. ‘I can always tell.’

Kent sat back in his chair. ‘Is that so?’

‘Oh, yeah. Martial arts and some weights. You: running, yoga, Pilates. Most of them do nothing. What’s his name, the fat guy hangs around with you, Ben? He does nothing. Arteries like gravy and a heart like pate. The blonde has got a bike or something at home. She’s a typical home exerciser: bits here and there.’

Kent cocked his head. ‘What about Dan?’

Ray snorted. ‘That guy? Whatever the latest fad is. Never sticks to anything.’ He sipped his drink. ‘Gossip is your girlfriend dumped you.’

Kent shook his head. ‘She’s merely irritable and lashing out. I’ve arranged for a gift to cheer her up and when I return home we will... reconnect.’

Ray smiled. ‘Gonna have some make-up, sex, huh?’

Kent shifted in his seat. ‘It was little than a tiff.’

‘Do I get to ride in the plane back?’ Ray asked.

‘No.’

‘Shit.’

Kent shrugged. ‘I’ll have our embassy sort something out.’

‘Thanks man,’ Ray said, slapping him on the back.

Kent gingerly finished his drink and stood up. ‘I should be going.’

‘I’m gonna stay here.’ Ray waved his hand. ‘See if one of these Brit boys will suck my cock.’

Kent blinked. ‘Oh. Uh...’

‘I’m not gay,’ Ray said. ‘But when in Romania do as the Romanias.’

‘Rome,’ Kent said. ‘Sure. You... have fun with that.’

***

He knew it was going to be bad knew when he saw Hughes’s number flash up on his cell phone display. Hughes only called _directly_ when something had gone disastrously wrong.

‘Are you on your way?’ Hughes asked. He sounded horribly blank.

‘We’re about to leave for the airport,’ Kent said. ‘Is something...’

‘She took an overdose. Must have been saving up her pills,’ Hughes said flatly.

Kent closed his eyes. ‘Is she... is she...’

‘They’re not sure what damage she might’ve done long-term. She’s going to be under medical care for a while.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Kent said quietly.

‘I had no business running for president. The stress was too much,’ Hughes said. ‘The strain of being the First Lady. So fucking selfish.’

‘Joanna... fully supports you,’ Kent said, flailing for something to say. ‘She never wanted her illness to impede –’

‘She supports me, and this is what I do. This is how _I_ support _her_?’ Hughes interrupted. ‘No. This can’t go on.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I need to think about this.’

‘I didn’t realise she was so ill,’ Kent said quietly.

‘No. Fuck. I suppose you’ll have to tell Meyer. I’ll need her to fill in for me a few times while I’m looking after Joanna.’

Kent rubbed his eyes. ‘Of course.’

‘Thank you. You’ve been a good friend to her.’

***

It was strange. Not in a bad way. It had been so long since he was this comfortable with someone. In a way, they had needed the argument on the boat. Needed to stop being on their best behaviour. That didn’t mean they were rude or discourteous. However, it did mean that they were honestly themselves. Part of being honestly themselves was admitting he disliked Kevin Spacey intensely and would rather not watch _House of Cards_ , while she loathed baseball. They were both surprised, both stung, and both got over it.

After Selina and Ben left, Kent went into Sue’s bedroom and sat behind her on the bed. He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck.

‘Sex tapes make you horny,’ she observed.

‘Wrong and wrong,’ he said. ‘Being near you makes me affectionate.’

She gave a mischievous smile as she looked over her shoulder. ‘Kissing my neck is how you show affection?’

‘It’s one of the ways,’ he said. ‘I’m a very affectionate person.’

‘Is that what you call it?’ she murmured, reaching behind her to slide her fingers into his hair.

‘Affection is very underrated.’ He slid his left hand into her panties. His right hand walked up to her breast.

Sue shifted up onto his lap. ‘I appear to be dating a horny octopus.’

‘I’ve been called worse.’

She shifted, grinding against his fingers.

‘Should I...?’ he asked.

‘Not too gentle.’

He rested his head on his shoulder as he concentrated. Not “rough” precisely, but firm. Firm and fast movements. He heard her breathing grow rough. Heard the tiny, sharp moan. She was pushing back against him, grinding against his crotch.

‘There. There.’

She closed her eyes tightly, keening, as her fingers tugged at his hair.

As she came, he kissed the side of her face. Then he lay her gently on the bed and tugged her jeans and underwear down. ‘Hmm, quick and dirty,’ she mumbled, watching him.

‘You shouldn’t get me so excited,’ he said lightly, pushing down his clothes. ‘it’s cruel.’

‘I’m very cruel,’ she said happily.

Kent pulled on a rubber and leaned over her. ‘You’re a wicked woman.’

Sue slid her arms around his shoulders. ‘You’re helpless before me.’

‘Utterly.’

***

Ben sprawled against the doorjamb. ‘You see FLOTUS?’

‘Last week,’ Kent said. ‘She seems a little better physically. Psychologically... I don’t know. She seems very low.’

Ben nodded. ‘I can’t get any sense out of POTUS.’

‘It must be distressing,’ Kent said quietly. ‘To live with someone and not realise they feel life is so painful that death is the only option.’

Ben shuddered. ‘If Joyce did something like that... Christ. I don’t know what I’d do.’

‘Get drunk,’ Kent said.

‘Yeah.’ Ben wandered over to the desk. He poked some of the magazines.

‘London? You just came back.’

Kent gathered the magazines together. ‘Sue didn’t have the opportunity to go. She’s mentioned a desire to go.’

‘Take her to Paris or Rome,’ Ben said. ‘They’re romantic. London isn’t.’

Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘Surely the most romantic thing would be taking her somewhere she has said she wishes to go?’

Ben sat down. ‘No. Where’s the surprise there? You’ve gotta surprise her.’

‘I _have_ been in a relationship before,’ Kent said.

‘And look how that turned out.’

Kent stared at him. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, fuck,’ Ben said. ‘I wasn’t thinking. Shit. I’m sorry. Christ.’

Kent looked away. ‘I appreciate the thought, but I am quite confident that I know what will make Sue happy.’

‘Women need romance,’ Ben said. ‘I know women.’  

‘That would be more persuasive coming from literally anyone else.’

***

As Sue spent more time at Kent’s apartment, he began finding her notes. They said things like: _Did Amy leak the Ray fat people story?_ and _Gary goes through Selina’s trash at work._ Although the one that most got his attention was: _given FLOTUS’s health problems, will POTUS run his full term?_

The notes were often accompanied by comments and speculation. Each time he found one. Kent returned it to the leather notebook that Sue had in her purse. She never asked him about it and he never raised it.  He wasn’t snooping. However, he wasn’t an idiot either. Evidently Sue was working a memoir of some nature. From the snippets he had read, it seemed likely that Sue was aiming for salacious and scandalous rather than the typical anodyne, political memoir. He was interested to know what her take on events was going to be. But he didn’t pry. He didn’t read any of her notebook. That was private unless she chose to share it with him.

One thing he could live without her sharing with him, was her family. From everything she had said, her relationship with her family in general, and her mother in particular, was at best combative. It was a dynamic that he was only aware of theoretically since his own family relationships were quite close. Sue had a lack of anger and resentment at her difficult family relationships that Kent found quite perplexing. Nonetheless he was quite nervous of their upcoming visit. He rarely impressed family members, particularly in large groups. Least of all when there was a significant age gap with his partner.

He had been seventeen years younger than Nadika, which when he was twenty-three was a much bigger gap than it would be now. Her family had _loathed_ him. They accused him of dating her for her money, or sleeping around, and of not having anything to offer but his body. The fact that she only ever dated much younger men was ignored completely.

But Sue had asked him to meet her family. He was incredibly uncomfortable with it, worried that he was make a terrible mess of things, but it was important to her. Whether she admitted it or not. So, he steeled himself and dressed up a little. There was little he could do to improve how they took manner or his personality, but he could ensure they had no legitimate complaint about his dress. In the end, it was more or less as he expected. No better and no worse. Sue speaking up for him wasn’t very surprising, she was hardly a shrinking violet, but it was gratifying in its way. She was happy enough with his performance that they made love in her living room. Afterwards she stroked the back of his head as he kissed her belly.

***

Kent didn’t have bad dreams regularly but of late his anxiety dreams had all been of a piece: being lost or searching for something that he had lost. It was no great mystery. He knew that he was allowing his waking fears to infect his dreams.

As annoying as he had found their attitudes, the fact remained that some things Sue’s family said cut close to the bone. He was a lot older than she was and he wasn’t sure what he had to offer her in the long term. Charlie was younger than he was, sure, but only a few years. Plus, they planned to have children. It wasn’t original, and it certainly wasn’t unique, but it was something that he had to offer her.

It wasn’t something he could offer Sue. He couldn’t have children and she didn’t want them.

Kent wasn’t a young man any more. Sooner or later Sue would likely grow bored of him or, worse, he would slow her down. He tried not to think about it. It would only make him anxious about something he couldn’t change. Better to put it from his mind and think about something else.

***

Kent always made it a priority to see Jackson on the younger man’s birthday. There had been a couple of times it was impossible, but when that happened he was quick with an explanation and reparation. It had been easier before the relocation. Miami raised little query or question as a brief vacation destination. Kentucky less so.

Kent walked into the bar, uncomfortably aware of the pressing heat and intense humidity. Perhaps that was why they wore the cowboy hats, to soak up the moisture.

Jackson waved at him from across the bar. His hair was still collar length and his jeans were still tight. Both marked him out as an out-of-state interloper. Even Kent looked much more the part. Of course, the cowboy boots helped, as did the large belt-buckle.

‘I’ll get you a drink,’ Jackson said, standing up.

‘Nothing stronger than a beer,’ Kent said.

‘You can’t stay long?’

‘I’m not supposed to be here.’ Kent sat down.

The bar wasn’t too bad. He’d been in worse. At least there were no junkie strippers chewing gun and grinding dirty poles. There were only a few people in here, mostly sat in corners drinking whiskey and muttering quietly on cell phones. The woman behind the bar had bottle-blonde hair which she played with as she flirted with Jackson. She pouted as he swaggered back to the table. He slid a glass of beer over to Kent and sat back against the wall.

‘You staying out of trouble?’ Jackson asked, eyes twinkling.  

‘Less than I’d wish,’ Kent admitted.

Jackson slipped his beer. ‘Something I can help with?’

‘I hope so.’

Jackson shifted slightly closer. ‘Terrible illegal?’

‘The Marshall service would not be happy.’

‘Dangerous?’

Kent shrugged. ‘Not particularly. it’s possible there might be a confrontation if things go very badly wrong. I hope not.’

Jackson sipped her beer. ‘What’s the plan?’

Kent tapped his fingers on the table. ‘A woman’s career has been imperilled due to a sex tape which a former partner is attempted to sell to the press.’

Jackson raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s not very gentlemanly.’

‘It is not.’

‘It’s a work thing or...?’

Kent set his shoulders. ‘It’s work, and that’s all I can say.’

Jackson pulled a moue. ‘I was thinking maybe you were doing this for a girlfriend?’

‘You think I’d date a woman who got herself into a mess like this?’

‘You’re working for one,’ Jackson said. ‘And come on, a lady should be able to take dirty pictures without some dick using it against her.’

Kent ran his thumb along the lip of his glass. ‘You may have a point there.’ He looked at Jackson. ‘I am seeing someone.’

Jackson grinned. ‘Great! You’ll have to introduce me.’

Kent pursed his lips. ‘We’ll see.’

 


	5. Chapter 5

He tried not to think about their pretence of enmity. It knotted in his gut. It might have bothered him less if it bothered Sue more. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing.

Kent understood the logic all too well. However, it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. He took out his keys from his pocket. The key to Sue’s apartment was marked with a small braid of red leather.

She had asked to move in with him after the campaign. She’d been nervous, as if he was ever going to say no. The great Sue Wilson, who was never wrong, had been nervous.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Joanna asked crossing her legs. She was looking much better now, but he saw strain in her face.

‘Ma’am?’ Kent asked.

It wasn’t a brunch. That was a small mercy. This was an afternoon cream tea – a ritual she had picked up on a trip to England. She often asked Kent to join her for it. He had to force himself not to eat too many of the little cakes. The vibrantly coloured cakes with heavy icing and fondant cream were riotously moreish.

‘I have heard that you and your little friend have been having trouble.’ She fixed him with a look. ‘Arguing in front of Selina Meyer and Roger Furlong of all people.’

Kent picked up a tiny sandwich. ‘Campaigning is a stressful business.’

‘Pfft, nonsense,’ Joanna Hughes said. ‘I know you too well to believe that. You worked with Charlie without problems.’

‘Well... that was an entirely different situation.’

Joanna picked up a cake. ‘You’re trying not to tell me a direct lie. Come on now, Kent. Is she married? What are you up to?’

He rubbed his forehead. ‘I really can’t... It’s work.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘So, if I asked Stuart or Ben...’

Kent frowned. ‘Selina Meyer has a problem for which she specifically wants to have plausible deniability. It would be... embarrassing.’

Joanna’s eyes brightened. ‘Can you tell me what it is?’

‘No.’

‘Spoilsport.’ She nibbled the cake. ‘Does your girlfriend know or does the poor girl think that you’re really breaking up with her?’

Kent scowled. ‘She knows. I wouldn’t do that to her.’

‘Good,’ Joanna said. ‘It’s been months now. Things must be serious,’ she teased.

Kent looked at his hands. ‘We’re going to move in together.’

She squealed, actually squealed. ‘Good! When are you going to propose?’

Kent stiffened his back. ‘I don’t want to rush her or push her into anything. It’s a delicate balance to be found.’

She smirked at him. ‘I think you have it bad for her.’

‘I think you might be right.’

***

Pulling their weekend away together took a little longer than he would’ve liked. There were more moving parts than ideal but that was okay. He was happy to go over and above if it would make Sue happy. He called in some favours and juggled a few tasks to arrange things. She was annoyed, but not severely. Kent suspected, although he would never say it, that she was exaggerating how irritated she was. It was in her nature to play up her grumpiness. They played a little game of her grumpiness and his intractability. She sparked a playful side of his character that he rarely experienced since Matty…

‘This is a real pain in my ass,’ Selina Meyer said. ‘We’re on campaign for fuck’s sake.’

Kent spread out his hands. ‘This is a long-standing prior arrangement, Ma’am. I will return at the beginning of next week.’

‘Well, your timing fucking sucks,’ she grumbled. ‘Sue’s fucking off somewhere too.’ She gave him a look. ‘You guys can still work together?’

‘We’re both professionals.’

Selina brushed a speck of something from his shoulder. ‘You’d be better with a more mature woman. Sue’s a bright and organised and fuck knows that she works hard, but she’s young and pretty flighty with men.’

Kent gave a non-committal smile.

Sue asked about a hundred questions on the way to the air field. It was difficult to not let anything slip, but he was determined to preserve the surprise. Her excitement was contagious but his was tempered by nervousness that she was going to be disappointed. Had he built it up too much? Would she have preferred to go to Rome or Paris?

‘Is that Jackson?’ Sue asked, peering out of the car window. ‘Are you talking again now?’

‘I was never not talking to him,’ Kent said. ‘It was an unfortunate situation and I was… disconcerted, but I got over it. You did right to tell me.’

Sue inclined her head. ‘Does he know that you’re not angry?’

‘Yes,’ Kent said.

‘Good,’ she said, as the cab came to a halt. ‘Don’t fall out with your family because of me.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Are you going to open the door for me?’

‘Of course.’

He saw her growing more uneasy as they moved further into the plane. Damn. Perhaps flying with the band had been a mistake. He could have chartered regular flights, ironically that would have cost a great deal while have significantly less facilities.

While she went off to talk to Jerry, Kent took a deep, slow breath. Okay. This didn’t have to be a disaster. It didn’t have to be a rejection. If he’d made a mistake, an error of judgement, well, then he would take it like a grown-up. He would apologise and hopefully they could move on.

Sue returned to the cabin and slipped onto his lap. As she kissed him, as the tension left his body, he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent.

***

They were napping when they began next their descent. An announcement came over the speakers just as Kent was getting out of bed.

He left Sue still drowsing as he got a very quick shower and brushed his teeth. As he was getting dressed. Sue stretched out and sat up.

‘Are we landing?’ she asked, clambering out of the bed.

‘Soon, yes,’ Kent said, enjoying the view.

‘Pervert,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

He packed their things up as she showered, regretting that they couldn’t have coffee while the plane was descending.

‘So, _where_ are we landing?’ Sue asked, putting her hair up as she walked out of the bathroom.

‘Guess,’ Kent suggested.

She put her hand on her waist and stalked back to the window. ‘It’s just fields and houses.’

‘Please take your seats,’ the pilot announced.

Sue pulled a face. ‘I’m losing patience, Kent.’

‘We will be landing at Heathrow in fifteen minutes,’ the pilot continued.

‘Heathrow?’ Sue echoed.

‘Yes,’ Kent said, watching her nervously.

‘London?’

‘Yup.’

‘We’re going to London?’ she demanded.

Kent nodded. ‘Any minute now. We should sit –’

She flung herself into his arms. ‘We’re going to London!’

***

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. When he woke up he had no idea where he was or why. The room was quiet, with only the burble of a vacuum cleaner in the hallway to break the silence. He got up and tried to stretch out the knots in his back and legs. Sleeping on a couch was a poor idea even for someone as flexible as he was. There was a note on the table by the coffee maker.

‘Kent,

I’ve gone for a walk. I’ll be back soon!

Sue x.’

An exclamation point and a kiss. For Sue that was practically squealing for joy. He smiled as he made himself a coffee. He just wished he’d gone out with her instead of falling asleep like an old man.

He almost jumped when his cell rang, a harsh sound in the quietness of the hotel. It wasn’t a number that he recognised but one which seemed local. There were few people in England who would know his number, and he had no desire to speak to any of them. ‘Davison,’ he said, putting the cell on speaker.

‘Took you long enough to answer the fucking phone. Were you too busy screwing or what?’

Kent hung his head. ‘What do you want, Malcolm?’

‘I thought you’d enjoy a warning before I had you deported,’ Malcolm sneered.

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘For one thing, you have no cause to deport me, _I_ have not been convicted of any crimes. For another thing, you don’t have the authority.’

‘Ah fuck, you got to win everything,’ Malcolm grumbled. ‘You got something to tell me?’

Kent sipped his coffee. ‘Such as what?’

Malcolm snorted. ‘You had me deported, you ungrateful cockwomble! How about a fucking apology? And don’t try telling me that fat fucker Cafferty did it. He doesn’t have the balls.’

Kent squeezed the bridge of his nose. ‘You think I owe you an apology? _You drugged me._ Dear Lord, I could have died.’

There was a long pause. ‘You’re not dead.’

‘No thanks to you,’ Kent said tartly.

‘I didn’t do it for shits and giggles, you know.’

‘Your motivation is irrelevant.’

Malcolm groaned. ‘You always did have a self-righteous streak. Did it fucking work? Did she cast good sense to the wind and take your mouldering body back into her bed?’

‘No thanks to you,’ Kent said again.

‘You dinnae deserve that girl. Wonderful right hook I hear she’s got.’

Kent gritted his teeth. ‘I’m well aware of both.’

‘Can we call a fucking truce?’ Malcolm asked. ‘I drugged you. You deported me. All done and friends now?’

Kent sat down. ‘You can have a truce.’

Malcolm was quiet for a few seconds. ‘Maybe we can meet up while you’re here. Get a drink.’

‘Malcolm, I’m having a romantic weekend with my girlfriend,’ he said.

‘She did take you back!’

‘Not because of anything that you did,’ Kent retorted. ‘How did you even know I was here?’

‘Got all of you Hughes boys listed at customs with a buddy. You come through and he lets me know.’

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘That sounds highly illegal.’

‘Aye and we know you would never break the law.’

Kent rubbed his forehead. ‘I’m going to disconnect now.’

‘Pump your girl good and hard for me,’ Malcolm said.

‘Masturbate while sobbing all alone why don’t you,’ Kent retorted. He terminated the call while Malcolm was still laughing.

***

Sue was enthusiastic about the... creative possibilities of a four-poster bed. She clung to two of the posts with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hair whipped around as he thrust.

She let go as she came and crashed down onto the bed. She was gasping and laughing as he came.

‘I love this bed,’ she said.

Kent leaned down to kiss her. ‘I’ll have to leave a glowing review.'

Sue pulled him down onto the bed next to her.

‘You should.’ She slipped her hand into his. ‘You should leave me a wonderful review.’

‘Absolutely.’ He nuzzled her check. ‘Five stars. Would have sex again.’

She nudged him with her elbow. ‘Cheek. Don’t presume that I would.’

Kent pouted. ‘I only said that _I_ would.’

‘I would too,’ she said magnanimously.

***

He had probably been too ambitious, but he was intent or making sure she didn’t feel she’d missed out on anything.

As they cruised down the river a little rain began to fall. Kent leaned against Sue. She was shivering in the chill air. She looked so beautiful; powerful and fragile, strong and gentle. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, lending her his warmth.

He had been to London four, no, five times, before. But London was a huge, sprawling city, and repeated visits were no burden. Paris was enormous too, and he wouldn’t have complained at another visit there either.

As they walked away from the palace. Sue squeezed his hand. They would have to come back. He was sure there was a lot more she wanted to see. St Paul’s Cathedral, the Tower of London, Hampton Court Palace… Perhaps he should have given up the idea of surprising her and asked her what she wanted to do.

He had taken Charlie to Rome, which was beautiful but crowded, but much smaller than either of them had expected. The Coliseum and the Vatican had been the outliers. The Vatican museum had handfuls of statuary thrown together without apparent rhyme or reason. Charlie found it oddly amusing. He wondered what Sue would think. He didn’t think she would approve, possibly because of the lack of organisation as much as anything else.

***

Kent had an uneasy feeling as the play progressed. There was an oppressive atmosphere of dread building. How did people watch something so tense for pleasure? It was all he could do not to –

It might have been a change in her breathing, or he might have subconsciously noticed the way her body relaxed, but something made him look at her. She was lolling to one side.

Asleep.

Kent nudged her gently, trying not to cause too much disruption. When that didn’t work, he put his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her upright. He gave her a little shake and she blinked open her eyes.

‘Do you want to go back to the hotel?’ he asked her softly.

She shook her head. A few seconds later she lolled again. He gave her a little shake.

‘I’m awake,’ she mumbled.

She lasted a little longer the second time. But as the lights came up for the intermission, she fell backwards. Her mouth dropped open and the snoring began.

Shit! He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. He managed to walk her, or half-walk and half-drag her, to the theatre door. An usher hurried over.

‘Do you need an ambulance?’

‘No, she’s just exhausted. I’ll get her back to the hotel.’

The usher hesitated. ‘Do you have some ID or something?’

Kent showed him his passport. ‘A moment.’ He gently patted Sue’s face. ‘Sue, can you wake up? Can you tell this gentleman that you know me and I’m not kidnapping you?’

She opened her eyes and rubbed her face. ‘Who’re you?’ she asked the usher.

‘I work here, love. I just want to make sure... That you’re okay.’

Sue yawned. ‘I’m tired.’

‘Sue, can you tell him that you’re happy for me to take you back to the hotel?’

She gave him a look, and then back at the usher. ‘Kent’s my partner,’ she said to the usher. ‘Please call a cab so he can take me to the hotel and ravish me.’

The usher laughed. ‘Um, all well and good then. Enjoy your night!’

‘She’ll be asleep before we get into the cab,’ Kent said quietly.

‘Good luck, sir,’ the usher said cheerfully.

The cab was mercifully quick. Sue was asleep and snoring as Kent carried her into the vehicle. As they drove to the hotel, she leaned against him, and pushed her face into his neck. He hoped she wouldn’t be too upset at missing the play. Even so he would have to admit that he was enjoying this, the warmth and softness of her pressed against him.

Although his knees and arms did not appreciate carrying her from the Uber and up to the hotel room. She was a healthy, fit woman with good muscle tone. She cut an impressive figure but carrying her was a task in itself.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally post a chapter a week but nobody seems to be reading this so I might as well cut my losses and finish it off.

It wasn’t the first time that Kent had been in a fire. Perhaps it helped that they’d been asleep. They were too confused and disoriented to do anything but stumble downstairs with their wallets and cell phones. It was hardly what he’d been hoping for, but Sue held his hand all the while and stood close by.

Naturally, Malcolm found out. Kent wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d set the damn fire.

Kent had been seven when the tree house burned down. He _thought_ it was late, because it was dark outside. His grasp of time then was poor. There had been an almighty noise downstairs: his parents screaming at each other, breaking crockery, and his sisters crying. Kent had been thrown out of a dream by the noise. He lay in the dark, clutching the bedclothes. Was it his fault? Was daddy mad because he hadn’t tidied away his toy boat in the playroom?

It was too loud to go back to sleep. Kent did what he did a dozen times before: he took his pillow and his blanket, padded to the window, climbed out, squirmed along the branch, and clambered into the tree house. He made curled up on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head. It was quieter here. When it began to rain, the gentle susurration helped him drift to sleep.

He was sneaking out of the tree house, shuffling along the branch back to his window, when lightning hit the tree house. He’d frozen, as the walls and roof went up in flame. It was the thick, oily smoke that made him leap for his window.

He missed. Fell. Hitting branches as he crashed through the spindly lower limbs. One caught the back of his pyjamas, he felt it scrape his back, and then his pyjamas ripped. He landed on the grass, too shocked and winded to cry yet. Later he would need stitches for his back and a cast for his leg, but then he lay and watched the fire spread to the house.

Sue squeezed his hand and looked at him with concern.

‘Where were you?’ she asked.

‘A thousand miles away,’ he said. ‘Apologies.’

        ***

‘Was that wise?’ Kent asked as Nichola drove Sue off.

‘What, you think your girlfriend might dump you for yummy mummy?’ Malcolm asked, leading Kent to an office.

‘Isn’t Nichola exceptionally motivated to seek some form of revenge?’

Malcolm shrugged. ‘She’s been exceptionally motivated to do all manner of shit and do you know how many she actually accomplished? Fucking none. She’s about as useful as a two-legged racehorse. Keeps trying but only ever goes in fucking circles. And someone should put it out of everyone’s misery.’

Kent folded his arms as Malcolm took clean clothes from a box.

‘Your solution to dealing with a lame colleague is to shoot them in the head?’

‘Don’t fucking pretend you don’t want to. Didn’t Meyer’s campaign manager have a breakdown or something?’

‘A panic attack,’ Kent corrected. ‘He was unable to deal with the stress.’ He took the clothes Malcolm offered him.

Malcolm shut the door. ‘There’s a whisper that your First Lady’s tried to fucking end it all.’

‘I can’t talk about that.’

Malcolm shook his head. ‘Is she going to be okay?’

Kent sighed. ‘I hope so.’ He started dressing.

‘Do you see much of Charlie?’

Kent gave him a sharp look. ‘What?’

Malcolm put his hands up. ‘Just wondering if she’s okay. She was in a bad way when...’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Kent said coolly.

***

Sue was amused, and, to Kent’s thinking, that didn’t happen often enough. The fact was that his interest in science fiction and fantasy had been used as an insult, as a stick to beat him with, for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t used to it being mainstream and his kneejerk response was probably always going to be embarrassment. Charlie had shared his interest, which had always been something that brought them together, but Sue didn’t. She was indulging him. Perhaps he should’ve found that condescending or offensive. He didn’t.

He glanced across at her. She was looking at the costumes with every sign of genuine interest. No boredom. No resentment. The last thing he wanted to do was bore her. The thought of it made his chest tight.

After Forbidden Planet they went to the large Waterstones. It was his turn to indulge her. Perhaps it was only obvious if you knew her well, but to Kent she lit up like a child at Christmas. He let her run off to the classics section, the better to lose herself in the stacks. When Kent was a boy he spent every penny of his allowance on comics. Neither of his parents approved, although for different reasons. His father thought they were for weak, overeducated children who would be better off out in the sunshine playing ball. His mother thought they would stunt Kent’s development. His eldest sister used to smuggle comics home for him when he was too young to go out himself. She persuaded him to try reading Edgar Rice Burrows and Tolkien novels. He wondered now, seeing families clustered around the distant children books, what had sparked her passion for fantasy fiction. Anne was long gone now, and he had never asked her.

Kent’s cell vibrated. Jerry’s number flashed up on the display.

‘Is there a problem, Jerry?’

‘Just bad news.’

***

Sue must’ve had thirty books. Good Lord. She gave him a look he’d never seen from her before: mingled guiltiness and defiance. He didn’t know why at first. She had an admirable confidence in spending money on herself. She worked hard for her money and she could spend it how she pleased. It was an excellent argument.

Then he saw the author name on the majority of the books, and his stomach flipped. Dear Lord, was this what she wanted? Was this what she wanted him to do to her? He’d tried a few things in his day, nothing dangerous, nothing... disrespectful, but nothing as extreme. He couldn’t. Least of all _those_ kinds of things.

Sue put her hand over his. ‘They’re satire,’ she did. ‘Not wish fulfilment.’

He almost told her that he didn’t even like rats, but that was undoubtedly revealing too much familiarity with the material. The rather sad truth was that Ben had come into work in high dudgeon, having found a copy of _The 120 Nights of Sodom_ in his son’s bedroom. He’d made the fatal mistake flipping through and reading odd sections. He had dealt with his trauma in the time-honoured fashion of spreading his trauma around as widely as possible.

Kent carried most of the bags of books as they left the store. Sue squeezed his arm and sighed contentedly.

‘This is an excellent weekend break,’ Sue said.

‘I’m so glad.’ Kent kissed her softly.

***

The flight back was a sleepy affair. They showered together and then crawled into bed. They were too tired to make love but cuddled up close together and dozed.

‘How did she like it?’ Jerry asked as Sue collected her luggage.

‘Very well I think.’ Kent gave the younger man a pat on his shoulder. ‘Thank you.’

‘Glad to help,’ Jerry said with an easy smile.

Kent took Sue home first and gave a little hug on the doorstep. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Not if I see you first,’ she said with a smile.

He slept like the dead and nearly missed the alarm. He was too old for this kind of trip. Too old to be running around like a teenager. He smiled at himself in the mirror as he combed his beard.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care if he was too old. He’d do it again tomorrow if he could. He dressed, brushed his hair, and then he went off to work.

***

Kent screwed his eyes shut and pressed his hand to them. His head was spinning. A disaster, both the events and the timing. This could not have come at a worst time. As Kent turned around he looked over to where Sue was talking to Amy. They were capable, more than capable, but it felt like he was abandoning them. Abandoning Sue. He was going to be away for days, perhaps longer. The thought of it made his stomach chum. She was going to take it badly. She hated it when they were separated.

He didn’t mean to say it. Not because it wasn’t true, it was. No because he didn’t mean it, he did. He’d been thinking it for weeks, thinking about telling her for weeks, perhaps for longer. He meant it. But that didn’t mean it was right to say it. It didn’t mean that she would feel the same way.

‘Love you,’ she said, looking into his eyes. ‘Go. Come back soon.’

He almost danced all the way out to the car.

***

‘Tell me something good,’ Joanna said. She was pale, and her eyes were swollen. She was brushing her hair in the mirror but looked at Kent’s reflection. ‘Tell me what’s put you in such a good mood.’

He reddened. ‘I’m not…’

Joanna waved her hand. ‘Don’t tell me silly lies. It’s beneath you.’ She turned around to look at him. ‘You’re allowed to be in good mood, Kent. I’m _glad_ that something is going well for you.’

‘Things are going well with Sue,’ he said tentatively.

‘Good! When Stuart said he was calling you back here I was worried that you’d be upset at leaving her behind.’

Kent sighed. ‘It’s not the best situation. However, the discussion of my leaving spurred an interesting… conversation.’

Joanna crossed her legs. ‘Are you finally moving in together?’

‘Soon, after the campaign,’ Kent said. ‘I, um, I was more forthcoming with her than I intended to be.’

She inclined her head. ‘What does that mean?’

He shifted in his seat. ‘Sue is a complicated woman. She finds emotional disclosures... difficult sometimes.’

Joanna folded his hands together. ‘You’ve been dating for months, you’re talking about moving in together, and you’re only now telling her that you love her?’

‘It’s a very delicate thing to navigate,’ he protested.

‘You whisked her off to another country just because you knew she’d always wanted to go!’ Joanna threw up her hands. ‘You’re obviously in love with her.’ She cocked her head. ‘She said it back of course.’

‘I feel that you’re not appreciating the depth of my anxiety that she might not feel the same,’ Kent said.

‘I try not to appreciate anything so silly.’ Joanna looked at him. ‘So, Sue is the proverbial “it.” Yes?’

‘I think so,’ Kent said quietly.

‘Good.’

***

The truth was that Kent wasn’t very close to his grandmother.

She had a number of children, far more grandchildren, and a ridiculous number of great-grandchildren, and frequently lost interest once they were old enough to talk. Kent had fallen from her radar decades ago. Nonetheless, it was right to pay his respects to the matriarch. Even if funerals always made his gut clench.

‘You gonna be okay? ‘Jerry asked as they disembarked.

‘Yes.’ He glanced at sue but she hadn’t heard, that was a relief. They had spent several days apart and, having snatched a little time together, he didn’t want it tainted. Bad enough it was a funeral. The place would be clogged with relatives who barely knew his grandmother and “friends” who barely tolerated her. A big Southern funeral was at least as much a place to be seen and to socialise as it was to mourn.

He didn’t like funerals, he didn’t much like enforced socializing, and he really didn’t like Sue meeting the less savoury members of his extended family. He was already uncomfortable with the interest she had shown in Lucas.

There was also the fact that Sue was the only black woman in the entire place. People looked. People whispered to each other.

‘You want me to hold ‘em down while you beat the crap out of ‘em?’ Scott offered. ‘Quick while she’s in the ladies’ room.’

Kent snorted. ‘That is extremely tempting.

‘Assholes,’ Scott said.

‘Should you be using that language in front of Katie?’ Kent asked.

Scott shrugged. ‘I’m looking forward to her randomly calling someone an asshole.’ He picked her up. ‘Kids are like that. You have to make peace with accidently laying little landmines every time you open your mouth.’

Kent nodded automatically. That wasn’t something he had worried about. Matty’s illness had been all-consuming. There were moments here and there when they said things like “if he pulls through then we can…”  At first, they believed it, but it didn’t last.

Denial is misunderstood. Misnamed, perhaps. Kent had always thought it meant a conscious refusal to accept reality. Instead he had felt that everything was illusory, dreamlike, and adrift. Numbness wasn’t a lack of sensation, it wasn’t even a lack of pain. It was a freezing cold, pain that couldn’t be borne but was instead shoved away somewhere off to the side.

Kent had held Matty in his outstretched hands. The little shape easily contained in the span. They hadn’t been allowed to hold him until it was too late. Until he was beyond pain or injury.

Skin almost translucent. Arms barely as thick as Kent’s fingers. Charlie screamed and screamed. Kent falling endlessly into a deep well, icy water filling his lungs forever.

Sue put her hand on his forearm. Kent shook himself. She was distracted by Allison waving. That was a relief.

***

Lucas was Lucas. Lucas was always Lucas. Kent didn’t blame him for flirting, that would be like a tiger or a shark for killing you. He was as incapable of acting outside his nature as any other predator. 

Kent didn’t want to blame Sue, but he did. He didn’t want to be angry, but he was. It was bad enough that she flirted; giggled and batted her eyes, it was worse she did it right in front of him. A slap in the face. She might as well have flat out told Kent that he didn’t matter. He wasn’t important. What was he thinking dating a much younger woman? It was always going to in tears. If he was honest, then deep down he had always suspected it.

She squeezed his arm. Apologetic. A little embarrassed. Sure. She felt that now. What about the next man who flirted with her?

His mother dragged see off for a chat. Rather more instant karma that Sue deserved.

‘Hey,’ Allison said. ‘You look annoyed as hell.’

He tried to smile. ‘It’s nothing. Lucas flirting with Sue. His usual behaviour.’

Allison pushed back her hair. ‘Perhaps he caught her off-guard. Sue is a little intimidating, she probably doesn’t get many men flirting with her.’

‘She has me,’ Kent said.

‘And she’ll be leaving here with you,’ Allison said. ‘Do you know how many women throw themselves as Jerry?’

Kent shuddered. ‘A great many I suspect.’

‘Right.’ Allison patted his arm. ‘Sue is nuts about you. Anyone can see that.’

Kent didn’t answer, just gave her a nod, and took his leave. He went out into the garden. He needed to clear his head. It was striking how many people there were and how few people were grieving. A woman was dead. Uniquely shaped by her personality and experiences, a life individual and irreplaceable had ended.

Across the garden, Caleb waved at him politely. Kent waved back. Lucas’s son. Dear Lord. Not a parentage he would wish on any child. Lucas came to all the funerals. After Matty’s funeral he hadn’t gone near Charlie, incoherent in her grief, but had given Kent a handshake. A rare moment of sincerity.

Sue sat on the swing next to his. After a moment, she put her hand over his.

***

In the tiny bedroom, Kent shifted position. Sue was sprawled across him, the heat of her body burning his skin. He missed this, the past few days. Her breath against his chest and her fingers on his shoulder felt like normalcy. Even here, pretending they weren’t together, sneaking in and out of her hotel room, felt like the real world in a way that being home in an empty bed didn’t. Couldn’t.

He wasn’t looking forward to returning to D. C. without her. The few days seemed to stretch out in front of him like a desert. She was snoring, of course. He didn’t even use earplugs anymore. He was only awake now because he was too warm.

She made a soft moan in her sleep. A bad dream perhaps. Kent stroked her hair.

‘It’s okay,’ he promised. ‘I’m here. I’m here.’

***

Ben grabbed Kent’s elbow as he headed for the door. ‘What the fuck are you playing at?’

‘I’m attempting to catch a plane back to D.C.’

Ben lowered his voice to a hiss. ‘You’re screwing over the admiration for a piece of ass?’

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t talk about her that way.’

‘Stick to the fucking point!’

‘The _point_ is that we saved this administration from complete disaster.’

‘Oh get over your fucking self.’

Kent shook his head. ‘I’m not you, Ben. I’m not about to throw away my private life in the service of the woman who seems hell-bent of self-destruction.’

‘No, you’ll just destroy your own career and Sue’s with it!’

Kent gritted his teeth. ‘Am I supposed to stand by while Selina insults Sue?’

Ben put his hands on his waist. ‘That’s what kicked all this off?’

‘It’s been a long time coming, but this was the straw that broke my back, yes. I refuse to stand by while someone, anyone, berates and insults Sue.’

Ben adjusted his tie. ‘There are better ways to make a fucking statement you know. Buy her jewellery. Buy her a car.’

‘I wasn’t making a statement,’ Kent said tiredly. ‘Now can I please leave? I’m going to miss my flight.’

Ben flapped his hand. ‘It’s not like you’re doing any good here.’

***

Kent spent a couple of busy days going through his apartment with the zeal of a fanatic: ruthlessly discarding and books, DVDs, ornaments, and collectables that he could. Sue needed to feel at home, not cramped, not permitted a single drawer, but to have at least equal space. She might want to redecorate. Okay. He’d have to see what she said. He could live with that. She was worth that and far more.

‘Look at your doing your spring cleaning,’ Charlie said.

He spun around. ‘How did you get in?’

‘Your door was open. You need to watch that,’ she said. She scanned the room. ‘Half the shelves empty. That’s not like you. Oh.’ She crossed her arms. ‘You’re getting ready for Sue to move in?’

He nodded. ‘When she comes back tomorrow.’

‘About time,’ Charlie said, wagging a finger at him. ‘She’s good for you.’

Kent put his hands on his hips. ‘I’m very well aware of that.’ He took a breath. ‘Why are you here?’

She shrugged. ‘Just being a good Samaritan I guess. I was worried what you might do all alone with you being in such a terrible state.’

Kent pursed his lips. ‘You heard I yelled at Meyer.’

‘Honey, everyone heard that you yelled at Meyer. Coming so soon after your Grandma’s funeral I was worried.’ She adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag. ‘It’s difficult. Funerals. I thought that it was likely difficult for you too.’

Kent nodded slowly. ‘Yes. It was. But that wasn’t entirely the issue. President Meyer insulted Sue. We’re in a campaign. I’m under a great deal of pressure.’

Charlie smiled. ‘And you’re very protective of her.’

He scratched his nose. ‘I wouldn’t say _very_ protective."

‘I would,’ she said. ‘And I think Sue is okay with that.’

‘I hope so.’ Kent chewed his cheek. ‘I’d offer you a drink, but Sue might not like it and... I don’t want to.’

Charlie chuckled. ‘I can’t stay anyway. I’m meeting Sophie for dinner.’ She walked over and touched the back of his hand. ‘I’m glad you’re okay. I really like Sue.’ She strolled back to the door. ‘Better be nice to her or I might make a move myself.’

Kent laughed. ‘Go eat dinner with your girlfriend.’

Charlie stopped with her hand on the door handle. ‘You’re okay?’ she asked quietly.

Kent nodded. ‘I’m okay. ‘He pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘You good?’

‘I’m good.’ she opened the door. ‘I’ll see you around, Kent.’

***

It took hours to unpack the last or Sue’s belongings. Then she kept reconsidering what she wanted to do and where she thought was best for books and ornaments. But eventually they crawled into bed together. She’d slept there before, dozens of times, but this time was different. She wasn’t visiting. She wasn’t a guest. He wasn’t going to have to watch her pick up her things and leave in the morning.

‘Are you tired?’ she asked.

He looked across at her. ‘Yes.’

She was watching him, her dark eyes bright. ‘How tired?’

‘Are you going to ask me to move the bookcase?’

‘No.’

‘The bed?’

‘It’s nothing to do with moving furniture,’ she said severely. ‘Except perhaps inadvertently.’

Kent rolled onto his side. ‘What does it have to do with?’

‘Sex,’ she said. ‘It’s entirely appropriate for us to celebrate my moving in with sex.’

Kent nodded. ‘That seems amenable.’

Sue pushed him onto his back and straddled him.

‘I do enjoy it when you’re commanding and demanding,’ he said.

‘I aim to please,’ she said.

It was slow and gentle. Both of them were tired. Both worn down a little by the stress and strain of recent events. Kent stroked her face. She kissed his fingers.

When they finished, Sue lay down next to him. The quiet but shallow breaths coming from her made him smile.

He took her hand, entwining their fingers.

‘Say it again,’ Sue said.

‘It?’

She looked at him. ‘You know precisely what I mean.’

‘Do I?’ he asked

‘Yes,’ she said, and pinched him.

‘Ow,’ he protested.

‘Say it.’

He rolled onto his side again and met her eyes. ‘I love you.’

She nodded. ‘I love you too.’

The End

 

 


End file.
